But They Died
by Amanda Hart
Summary: Mitchell shows up drunk at the house.  George leaves, dismissing the drunken state.  Annie is not so sure.  Rated for blatant sexual content.  ould be counted as smut, but this is a little more serious, I think.


**A/N: I've been writing fanfiction fluff for a while now, so this is sort of a warmup for me. I've done a crossover before with Annie, but have seen the distinct lack of fluff on this site and figured I'd throw my hat into the ring. **

**I hope you like it. :) Please read and review! Critique is also welcome, but please don't flame me. For god sake, I know I write rated M stuff, there's no need to report me for it. :P**

**Main inspiration for the mood in this piece is "One Track Mind" by Papa Roach. Hey, hear it before you judge. :)**

Mitchell sat at the dining table, eyes wild, smirk predatory as George left the room, the werewolf dismissing his friend as "drunk." Annie stared at him, baffled. What had Mitchell done? Why was George so complacent with all of this? What was going on inside their house (or more urgently, outside)?

The door clicked shut as George left the house to go God-knows-where. That's how it's been lately; everyone with their own lives, their private affairs. Strangers living together.

That bothered Annie. She bunched her overlong sleeves into her hands, crossed her arms in front of her, clearly worried. She vanished momentarily from the front room, appearing next to Mitchell, sitting at the table, who had chortled mockingly when she materialized. "Ah, hah hah haa. The ghost." His smile turned even more vile when he leered in her direction, sending chills down her noncorporeal spine. "You are so pretty," he reached out as his voice, vicious, snarling, caused Annie to shrink away. "I could do such... un-pretty things to you." His eyes darkened, his fangs just slightly extended to make that smirk just that much more wicked.

Annie jerked her hand away from his before he'd the chance to kiss it, or whatever he was planning. "Mit-Mitchell!" She stood quickly, the chair flying out from behind her, her arms flailing momentarily to fend off the albeit tame advances of her clearly addled friend. "Stop it!" She snapped at him, glaring, eyes full first of disgust, then with a tinge of worry, of pity.

A split second later, Mitchel shot up from his chair and lunged at Annie, quickly pinning her to the wall, one hand holding hers above her head, his body nearly at arm's length. He leaned in and down to look her in the eye, his glare baleful, but his smile still that savage grin. "Stop what, love?" He rolled his head just slightly, eyes narrowing.

Annie struggled, though hardly in a panic. She was, of course, dead, and therefore mostly physically untouchable by Mitchell's advances. More than that, she did, for the most part, trust her friend, despite his mental state. She looked at him through half-opened lids, her voice even. "Stop this. This ... atitude, this way of being, this drunken arsehole behavior, Mitchell, you're not yourself."

Mitchell snarled and pressed harder against her wrists, his face now dangerously close to hers. He brought his free hand up and touched the tip of his tongue to the palm of the glove he wore on his hand. It came up red. Faint, but red. "You're damn right," he ground out, staring hard into Annie's eyes as he sipped from his stained palm. Annie trembled just a bit. Blood. Christ, he was back on again, wasn't he? "They killed them... now we kill them back!" He chuckled madly, but quietly, releasing Annie for a moment to allow her to remove herself from the immediate vicinity.

Annie simply turned and backed away, still very much in Mitchell's reach. "Killed who? Mitchell, what's going on?"

Again he lunged, and again Annie found herself leant down against a piece of furniture - the arm of the sofa this time, sitting as Mitchell held her by her shoulders, the mirth gone from his gaze, his body shaking with boiling rage at the vivid, fresh memories. "Killed... the vampires. Blew them up. Like cowards. Like animals!" His grip tightened on Annie's shoulders and she winced, but stood firm, never once looking away, allowing Mitchell to explain in his broken sentences. Mitchell's eyes flashed and he roared, "They were getting clean! They were quitting the killings! And this, oh, this is how they show their appreciation of our efforts! Well, no more!" Mitchell's fingers dug into Annie's ethereal skin, the vampire senses quite effective against her incorporeal self. He shook Annie once, brought her up very close and stared into her eyes, stared through her as he quietly and heavily stated, "They. Are all. Dead."

Sense. It all made sense this time. Annie's eyes dawned with the realization of what Mitchell was saying. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. Instead, her aching arms moved, slowly, her hands touching Mitchell's painfully tensed arms as he fought both to hold her in place and not to crush her utterly. On contact, Mitchell grunted as he fought the urge to break down, the snarl becoming hybrid with a whimper. His shaking became erratic, but more pronounced as he'd poured out his rage and sorrow all out onto the table for Annie to see. "Mitchell," Annie whispered sympathetically. Tears started forming at the corners of his eyes, and he faltered, catching himself just as he began to collapse, releasing her shoulders as he wrapped his arms around his friend, the sorrow overtaking the rage.

He felt pitiful. He would not let Annie go; not that she wanted to. His breathing revealed his quaking self. He'd once again lost almost everybody. Those people, those vampires were his charges, and he failed them miserably. "Annie?" His broken voice was hardly above a whisper. Annie just hushed him, cradled him against her, as much as one of her stature could cradle any grown man, and just let him compose himself to where he needed for himself to be.

He began to come down, the meltdown all but avoided. He drew away just enough to look at her again, then rested his forehead to hers and drew a shaky breath. "I'm so sorry. Annie, I'm so.. so, sorry."

"No," she spoke softly, but firmly. "Don't do that. There's no need for-"

"Annie, please don't go."

She froze. "Excuse me?"

"Please, I know what you're planning. I know why you want to go with George. I know that _priest_," the word falling from his mouth like bile, "was here, his stink is all over this house. And I know," he opened his eyes to look at her as he spoke again, "that you believe yourself to be alone. That it scares you. That the time in front of you seems so daunting, so endless, so frightening, but Annie," he began to slow down, "I... I'm not going anywhere. Not now, not in the forseeable future. But for god sake, Annie, please, not now, I..." He began to lose himself again, his face screwed up as he tried to stop himself from breaking down. He took a few quick deep breaths. "I.. _need you_... right now." His last sentence, short, was ragged, torn with grief and loss and fear.

Annie was speechless. She was awestruck. Mitchell, so closed off, so private, now with this outpour. She was taken off-guard. "Annie," he plead with her, "I have no right to ask for this. You've stopped yourself crossing over once already because of me, but please, please.." He stopped. He was out of words.

After a very long pause, a long, pleading look from her friend, and what seemed like hours passing in seconds, she whispered, "Okay."

Mitchell looked up, his eyes still dark, but expression softened. "Okay?"

"Okay."

Annie found herself once again in Mitchell's clutches, a full-contact embrace coupled with Mitchell's mix of pure joy and relief evident in his sighs and chuckles. She couldn't help but smile and laugh just a little, a happy laugh, happy because she could help one of her dearest friends. She squeezed against him, her smile smothered in Mitchell's shoulder, but beaming,

After a quiet moment, they pulled back just a touch to look at one another again. The emotional atmosphere compelled them both, and with some nervousness and caution, Mitchell leaned in and brushed his lips very gently against Annie's. Neither noticed the cold of the other. Annie gasped just slightly and parted her lips, tilting her head up enough to graze her lips back against Mitchell's.

He gently held her head in his hands as he deepened the kiss, inhaling sharply as he did so, so appreciative and exhalting was he that he felt consumed. Annie's brow furrowed as she gathered her wits, but the crashing waves of emotion coming from Mitchell were too strong to just brush off or ignore. She sighed urgently and fell into him, allowing herself to be taken in by his awakening desires - _their _awakening desires.

Phantom though they might be, their pulses raced as their breath quickened. Annie pulled away from the kiss to look at Mitchell, whose gaze was almost everything at once; rage, sorrow, confusion, ecstacy, gratitude, uncertainty. She rested a hand against his chest and looked up at him, her own gaze showing acceptance, understanding, a little sadness of her own. She knew what was to happen between she and her friend. She'd accepted that fact the moment their lips collided. But Mitchell seemed unsure, as though his actions would spur her to run. That hand moved up to cup his face on one side, and as he leaned his cheek against the palm, she smiled welcomingly at him.

Mitchell gave a soggy smile back to her, his tears beginning to fall. He took the hand on his face into his own and kissed it. He looked into her eyes and studied her reactions as he slowly moved to her inner wrist, then forearm, then the inside of her elbow. Each small, respectful kiss elicited a stronger response from Annie. Suddenly she sparked to life, her own expression deepening. This wasn't acceptance anymore. It was her own want. She wanted this, wanted Mitchell to do these things to her.

Her pupils dilated and she swallowed a little harder than usual. Mitchell, his vampiric senses picking up on every single subtle nuance, smiled at Annie a little more boldly as he began to lean in, kissing first her shoulder, then her collar bone, then settled a long, lingering kiss onto her pulse point, pressing his tongue gently against it. Annie gasped softly, leaning her head away instinctively. Mitchell chuckled. The irony of this was not lost on him. He allowed himself a very light superficial nip at the skin just below her ear, then swept himself back up to stand squarely in front of her, smiling warmly.

Annie's eyes fluttered a little at the dizzying sensations Mitchell had caused her. Yes, he has been doing this for quite a long time. She exhaled softly and smiled shyly at her friend. For a very brief, flighty second she wondered idly if Mitchell would only see her as another point on the score board. But no. Not this time. Not Annie. Not when his need drove him to her. The second passed.

She guided Mitchell to sit on the sofa. He was much taller than she, and even as a ghost she couldn't master that difference. She led him to recline just a little, then leaned against him, loosely sitting in his lap, though not straddling him quite. She lightly nipped and licked tiny bites and strokes against his neck, first the side, then the throat, then the other side. She bit down a little harder on his collar bone, making him tense and groan softly. His eyes rolled just a little as he let himself just be in the moment. Annie had just begun nudging her tongue against that spot in the back of his ear when he experimentally flexed his thigh, causing it to rub up against her, between her legs.

Annie gasped, grasped at Mitchell's shoulders and leaned back, her heavy gaze pinning him to the sofa. She rolled her head a little, then after a brief moment of study, she reached up and pulled her shirt clear off of her ethereal body. She watched him carefully as he took in the image of her, topless, save of course for her brassiere.

Mitchell grasped Annie's hips and gently pulled her off of his lap. He stood and reversed their positions, Annie now on the couch, reclined, and Mitchell kneeling on the floor next to her. He allowed himself to take in another full view of Annie's form, his breath slightly heavier than typical as he looked her in the eye and said to her, "You're beautiful, Annie." He leaned forward and kissed her lovingly, one hand holding him up, the other sliding down to be by Annie's opposite hip. The rhythm of this kiss was deep and emotional, romantic but not airy. As he shifted to be kneeling in front of her, he pulled away again, watching Annie for any signs of resistance.

Finding none, he brought one hand up to one of her legs, helping her out of first her shoe, then sock, then repeating on the other side, each movement deliberate. Once those were cast aside, Mitchell parted Annie's thighs so that he could advance and lean up against her, be face to face with her.

Annie watched in stunned silence. If she didn't know better, she'd think Mitchell was her long-time lover. He was certainly treating her like one. The respect, the attentiveness, the very detailed and practiced actions he took without hardly more than a kiss began to make her lose herself to this moment. She shivered when he rested between her legs. She sat up and brought him in for a kiss, a light, lingering kiss on the lips. A blessing.

Mitchell's heart leapt. She did seem to be going with the flow, but that kiss was much more than just a go-ahead. He watched her eyes as he first removed his gloves, then jacket. He would not stain that perfect skin if he could help it. Setting those aside, he settled down once again, his movements smooth, but ginger as he rested one hand against her beautiful, flawless breast. His fingers swept over the flesh, first one, then the other, one hand at a time. He then held her sides just under those breasts and leaned in, planting a kiss on the left. Annie squirmed just a little, then moaned softly. At this point, Mitchell could just touch her hand and he could set her phantom nerves on fire. She was putty in his hands.

Deft hands reached behind Annie and unclasped the undergarment that had held her breasts. He helped her out of that garment and set it aside with her other clothes. He leaned in again and lavished her chest with nuzzles, licks, kisses, and a light nip to each puckered nipple. He took his time, savoring every inch of her skin. Annie, paralyzed with wonder, with lust, with desire, watched and shivered when he looked up at her to watch her reactions. The meticulous attention to detail caused Annie to unconsciously spread her thighs wider, a nearly undetectable action, but one Mitchell definitely picked up on.

He looked up again at Annie, saw the flushed cheeks and smiled. He needed her to feel this way. He needed her to feel as wonderful as she'd been to him, to put up with his insanity, his aloofness, his general behavior overall. Before long, he'd skillfully relieved Annie of her jeans and panties, neatly placing them with the rest of her clothes. She reclined there, naked in front of him. He had seen some beautiful bodies in his time, but this was somehow different. He now paid all of his attention to her body. She had let him get this far, there was no need to keep checking visually. He bent down and nipped at the hollow of her hip, causing her to jump slightly, give a surprised gasp. He stayed there for a short while, nibbling, licking, sucking, until the sensation ebbed. Then above the opposite hip, just under the ribs, she felt him bite again, shocks shooting down her limbs and spine. She moaned heatedly, the sort of moan that precedes a total loss of control, and he would keep her on that edge as long as he could.

He leaned up to kiss her again on the lips, and as she was distracted he brought a hand up to gently massage her sex. She shuddered and squirmed as he swallowed her mewls and gasps of pleasure. His hand maintained a steady speed and pressure, just shy of building, just shy of tipping her over that edge. He could taste her frustration mixed with the heady lust she'd began to have, and he savored it.

He pulled slowly away from the kiss, his hand gently removed from her apex.

Annie was nearly delirious. She had no idea of anything like this feeling before, having been in short or abusive relationships through her short adult life. Her vision was clouded at the edges, her breath heavier, but not quite heaving. Mitchell smiled again at her, that warm, grateful smile. He began to bend down again, but Annie stopped him. "Wait," she spoke gently. Mitchell, confused, acquiesced to her wish. She tugged at Mitchell's shirt, and he got the message. In a second, he wore nothing from the waist up. His fit arms, shoulders, torso were all bared for her to see. Mitchell leaned up again, his bare torso nearly flush with her crotch as he kissed her lips briefly, but gently. His hands glided against her skin, her belly, breasts, sides, arms, legs, all as he slowly knelt before her. When he saw no signs of resistance, he tested, his practiced tongue darting gently against her sex. Annie inhaled sharply, her body tensed, then shuddered heavily. He licked again, a longer sweep, this time eliciting a heated moan from her, her fingernails biting into the couch cushion. Her entire body was spring-loaded; it didn't take supernatural senses to see that.

Mitchell sank one finger into Annie's depths, then latched himself to her apex and darted and swirled his tongue in a rhythm that wasn't slow, but was powerful. He pushed a second finger into Annie before he fully registered the wild gasping and squealing he was causing to come from her. He began to watch her as he flickered his tongue against her clitoris, his fingers pumping, one, two, three, four, rubbing that ball of nerves just inside of her opening. Annie began to thrash, begging him, pleading him, only his name the discernible word as she shattered, her body arched and twisted and bent, convulsing as Mitchell catapulted her into climax.

She panted heavily as Mitchell slowly brought her back down, gently kissing the insides of her thighs, his fingers slowing before they stopped, then relaxing before he pulled them free.

Annie smiled dizzily at Mitchell as he rested on the ground next to her. After a few moments, Annie, confused, shifted and gave him a querying look. When he smiled back and just sat there, allowing Annie to relax, she pulled him up onto the sofa and nestled herself on the ground in front of him, just as he had done for her. Mitchell began to protest, but did agree to undressing. His clothes were in a heap on the floor, just like Annie's, and now, just like Annie, he was sprawled completely naked on the sofa.

Annie watched Mitchell as she dipped her head, then brought it back up, the tip of her tongue sliding just barely against his very hard cock. He tensed, the feather-light contact causing his member to strain up towards her ministrations, as though vying to be touched with much more force. As it settled again, it pulsed with each of Mitchell's artificial heartbeats. He looked down at Annie as she gave him that cheeky smile. His gaze darkened as his desire grew. Suddenly he was painfully aware of his own situation. Annie had stood up. He watched her every movement, holding her waist as she straddled him. She reached between them and found his cock, smiling to him as she guided him to her folds.

Slowly she sunk down onto him. Mitchell had shut his eyes and was focusing on self control, allowing Annie to set the pace. It didn't take her long. Her slick heat, fresh from her first orgasm took him in easily. She began to move, slowly at first, getting her bearings. Quickly she began to move faster, faster, harder, grinding against him as he tips his head back and moans her name luridly. She gasped and yelped and moaned. Mitchell's jaw set firm, he grasped her hips and began thrusting up at her while pulling her down hard onto him. His movements became erratic, his breath ragged, then one, two, three seconds later and his body tensed, his climax ripping through him.

Panting, both of them began to come down from that dizzying height. Moments passed before they decided to get better situated and covered themselves with a blanket. Mitchell curled up behind Annie, protectively forming himself to her. As they began to doze, Annie could have sworn she heard Mitchell say something.

_"I love you, Annie."_


End file.
